


==> Bro: Get exactly what you want. [fic+art]

by cupofcoffin



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Art, Digital Art, Dubious Consent, Guardiancest, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Sibling Incest, Somnophilia, Stridercest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:09:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28390689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupofcoffin/pseuds/cupofcoffin
Summary: You've been away from your brother for far too long. You're not really about the soft-talk, but there are indirect ways of saying that you've missed him.Server secret santa for roboBeasty!
Relationships: Dave's Bro | Beta Dirk Strider/Dirk's Bro | Alpha Dave Strider
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	==> Bro: Get exactly what you want. [fic+art]

**== > Bro: Wait up.**  
  
D’s been gone for a month. A little more. You know he’s a busy guy, it’s about work, not about you. And you ain’t about to admit to missing him, any part of him. You can handle a few weeks alone. But you’ve waited all this time, stayed up late every night hoping that D would come crawling into your bed, mewling apologetically about the hour, about the absence. Fantasies of showing him that you aren’t mad. Fantasies about showing him that you _are_.

Okay. So maybe you’ve missed _some_ parts of him. Maybe even _all_ of him. You don’t have any intention of saying so.

Anyway, you’ve waited all this time, and what do you get in return? The asshole stumbles in through the front door, noisy as anything, probably drunk. And he goes straight to his own bedroom.

Dickhead.

You wait ‘til you can’t hear another sound. Every time you think it’s been quiet enough for you to go harass him, you hear more fabric rustling, more floorboards creaking, and you think maybe he’s coming to you after all. But he never is. He ain’t coming. You end up staring at the ceiling for a good hour and a half, mainly having shouting matches with him in your head, until you decide the fucker’s actually gone and fallen asleep.

You shake your head. You ain’t waiting for him any longer.

You open the door, and it doesn't even creak. You could’ve unlocked it, but you didn’t have to. D left it open. Like he doesn't even know how bad you want him.

Or maybe like he does.

More evidence toward knowing, as your orange eyes adjust fast to the pitch-dark room: he’s sleeping ass fucking nude. Sure, it’s hot as all hell, and sure, you’re hardly in a state you could call ‘clothed’ yourself. But he ain’t an idiot. He’s gotta know you’d be wanting him.

Frankly, that’s consent enough for you.

You shuck off the loose, cotton, novelty-patterned boxers and the too-tight tank -- you leave them on the floor. Both belong to D anyway, and this way you might not have to admit to wearing them in his absence. Now matching your brother’s nakedness with your own, you lay yourself down beside him, careful not to rouse him, light fuckin’ sleeper that he is. You’re already hard as a damn rock against the cleft of his plump ass, and you don’t got any intentions of slowing it down. But his skin is soft, delicate and sleep-warm. You rarely touch him so light in his waking hours, but in this moment of quiet you allow your hands to ghost over his pale chest, stirring his rosy nipples to hardness.

Your hips are already rolling of their own accord, but even with the precum beading at the tip of your dick, there’s no way you can get inside him without waking him. You look back up at his sleeping face, lashes heavy and shading his shut eyes, and there’s a heat in your chest that isn’t specifically from arousal. God damn.

You shift down the bed, bending your legs so they don’t hang over the edge, until his ass is against your stomach. Unlike his hole, which stays ungodly virgin-tight no matter how many times you wreck it, his plush thighs take your cock’s lubricant like they’re _made_ for it. You lift one carefully to squeeze between them, listening intently for any shift in D’s breathing, and when his thighs close again around your cock, they’re _perfect_.

 _He’s_ perfect.

\----

**== > Bro: Wake up.**

Of course you know.

And of course your asshole brother wakes you, only a few precious moments into the first decent sleep you’ve had since leaving.

It’s exactly what you wanted, but it doesn’t make it less annoying.

What annoys you more is that he’s creeping around like he doesn’t _know_ that this is exactly what you wanted. Sneaking into the hall, into your room, into your bed like he doesn’t think he’ll wake you up doing it, then dry humping your legs like a dog and manhandling you anyway.

He’s endearingly singleminded.

You don’t give him an inch, though. You’re deadweight, unmoving, asleep in just about every sense except for a vague and groggy awareness of what he’s doing. It’s enough. He pumps between your thighs, quickly slicked by sweat and precum, and you can tell he’s trying not to make a sound. You can practically _hear_ his teeth grinding together, air forced through his nose and ruffling your hair, and it doesn’t make him feel like less of an animal.

It also doesn't stop your own cock from perking up. Probably helps it along, honestly, because you hear his breath hitch, and when you carefully crack open one heavy eye you can see him staring down at where your own leaking erection is resting on your hip bone, hard against your stomach. He looks downright _enamoured_. Like it’s his fucking boyfriend. You almost laugh, but a, you don’t want to ruin the illusion, and b, you’re already slipping further into sleep again.

He can have what he wants. _You_ set this up, after all.

You’re not gonna tell him you missed him.

You can show him, though.

\----


End file.
